


the funny thing about tuesdays

by Poppyseed



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Body Writing, M/M, Pining, i saw a thing i wrote a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1507379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poppyseed/pseuds/Poppyseed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn writes on Niall's um taint. That is all</p>
            </blockquote>





	the funny thing about tuesdays

**Author's Note:**

> as you can probably guess i saw this in a porno

Zayn releases his lower lip and can't help but let his eyes trail after it. A moist muted smack comes after and Niall tucks it securely back into his own mouth. Zayn has his thumbs lightly tracing the red tint on his cheeks while Niall feels completely trapped.

He's seen so many variations of Zayn that it comes as a surprise that all he's doing right now is staring at him. For all the grouchy Zayn, pissed off Zayn, fucked to a frazzle Zayn, high Zayn, pretentious Zayn, sleepy Zayn, Liam's Zayn, Harry's Zayn and Louis' Zayn, 'on camera' Zayn, can't be bothered Zayn, his Zayn and her Zayn, today Zayn who might be nothing like tomorrow Zayn, he's losing his footing on this Zayn and that cryptic look he’s giving him.

Niall thinks there's nothing really wrong with it per se but this isn't that soft edged look he sometimes wears that makes him want to run and hide under the couch with the weight with which it speaks. But maybe that's not even it, maybe the fact that Zayn's got his eyes on him at all is what makes him feel off kilter. 

When Z says "I wanna try something," Niall supposes it could be worse. 

"Always the first thing you wanna hear in the middle of sex," he would so much rather keep this airy and concentrate on dragging his fingernails along the bumps of Zayn's ribcage than give into it too much.

Zayn smiles at him in a way that could make Niall's eyes water and says, "it's not like that. It's something else."

He drops his forehead to Zayn's collarbone and says an unnecessary "ok."

There's a light tap at his shoulder egging him to flip over and he acquiesces. Zayn leans back reaching for something on the bedside drawer and afterwards slips in between Niall's legs.

He lets out a steadying breath and has no clue what’s about to happen but it might be better that way anyway. Zayn lifts both of his knees, keeps one hand steady pressing in between his heel and ankle when he asks "you ok?" Niall doesn't know why he's so anxious so suddenly he has to grip onto the sheets to make the "yeah yeah" half believable.

Zayn doesn't look convinced but he also doesn't push it which makes Niall's nerves all the more jittery because that means he must really want this. "Good. Not the first time you've been in this position Mr Horan."

He’s grateful for his attempt at trying to alleviate the tension but Niall feels like his lower half has already turned into stone. "You’ve got a face full of shaft.”

Zayn lowers himself just enough that his breath ghosts along Niall’s undercarriage, he says, “not the first time I’ve been in this position.”

No matter how on edge he is Niall has to appreciate the comeback, “Oh, Mr Bond" he does the utmost with his kittenish-Silva impression, well the utmost that he can manage, grunting through the 'oh' and the 'mr' and finally lets the back of his head hit the pillow.

Zayn smirks and reaches for whatever he had set on the bed spread. He can see it now, it's a Sharpie which again, could be worse. He pulls off the cap looking right at him and Niall knows he won't let up till he looks back.

When Niall forces out a sigh and chances a glance he really wishes he hadn't. 

 

In a lot of ways Niall thinks he's a lot braver than Zayn is. Not because he's some shrinking violet or anything of the sort but because Zayn doesn't have to look at his own face right now and Niall has no other place to.

He's gazing at him from under the shadow of his eye lashes, where everything looks all the more angular and Niall can't help but get the distinct feeling that he's being stared down. Like Zayn already knows how he looks right now because nothing about this seems inadvertent. He doesn’t want Niall to move.

"Stop doing that," by the time Niall finishes his statement his eyes are already back on the ceiling.

Zayn sweeps his tongue over his lower lip and says, "i thought you liked it when i stared at you."

Said wolfishly but that can be overlooked because Niall doesn't want to get caught up in the fray; this boy and his far-reaching magnetic field.

"Not like, like that," when Niall feels exposed on an elemental level.

He raises himself and sits up, places a kiss on the arch of Niall's foot and says, "but i like your face."

"Zayn..." it comes off a bit whiney but this has got to end. Niall wants to say, 'will you fucking get on with it.' It might cover up the lurch in his stomach.

"Alright alright. Can you just..." he takes him by the wrist and leads Niall to cover his nut sack with his hand. "Hold this up."

He could ask questions but he's so tired already and it won't make any difference if he doesn't. So Niall grips his hand round his scrotum and lifts it up and out of the way leaving the gentle rise underneath in plain view.

Zayn places one of his hands on the curve of Niall's bum, it's so fucking warm, his muscles twitch, "you ready?" he asks.

Niall can only squeeze his eyes shut and nod with no particular rhythm.

 

The second the tip of the marker meets his skin he can't help the whimper that slips past his lips and which feels like it shook right out of his abdomen. It's a weird sensation, it's not terrible but it's not exactly what he was expecting.

He instinctively looks down even if to him it feels like a feat trying to pry his eyelids apart.

Zayn's busy, that much is for sure. He doesn't avert his gaze from his task not once when Niall is watching him, tracing the defined clench of his jaw even when the grip on his balls loosens as the pen drags along the tightening seam of his taint.

Niall shivers at the pressure the marker impresses upon him and it feels like its going so deep it hurts. He can kind of make out a little of what Zayn's drawing but it becomes a bit tough to follow especially when the touch gets feathery and makes him squirm.

It's nothing elaborate but Zayn keeps going over the same lines and on all that is green and good on this earth he hopes it's not because he's sweating too much right now.

The hand Zayn had placed on his bum is now steadily going up and down the inside of his thigh and there's a tingle every time it gets close to his groin and everything starts getting mixed up. Niall knows his legs are probably jelly right now and he has to suppress a tremor every few seconds, holding every muscle fibre he can taught and slowly trying to release although his shaky breaths and curled toes might be giving him away. He must look a sight.

"Hmm, are you getting off on this," Zayn asks and the smirk is prevalent. But it's also when he notices how heavy the weight in his hand has become. Somewhere in between his freaking out and his nerves, between the 'good lord what is happening' and Zayn's compelling presence he got hard. 

It's rather turgid but nothing severe. At the moment he kind of wishes he had sprung one of those 15 year old morning wood deals. He could let it go and watch it bounce back hitting Zayn in the face. Right on his cheek. And if Zayn getting slapped with a dick on his stupidly perfect face isn't divine retribution Niall doesn't want to know exactly what is. 

"Are ya finished," he does his best with it but loses some of the statement in a gasp when the pen wanders too close to his asshole.

Zayn eases back looking at his work and smiles up at him. "All done." He throws the Sharpie on the floor without bothering to cap it and helps Niall lower his legs. They spasm a couple of times but he gets there.

Slipping back into his place by Niall's side he says " now that wasn't so bad was it."

Niall turns to face him,"no, it wasn't. Can i just rest my eyes for a second" he feels good and wiped out, he just needs this, just for a little bit.

Zayn settles his hand lightly on his waist and says "of course" with that look returning to his face.

 

When Niall wakes up the first thing he notices is the Sharpie still on the floor. It's a bit darker outside than it was, he must have been out for a minute, his stomach is grumbling and he's probably run out of microwave meals-for-one so he kind of wants to grumble too and Zayn's gone. 

He puts on the first sweatshirt he spots and forgoes pants. There's a bit of a draught in the hallway but he reaches the bathroom all the same, goosebumps and all. Niall yanks off the extension mirror hanging on the wall and sets himself on the toilet seat. Tucking his legs up with the mirror in front of him he sees in bold black a 'Z' imprinted on the strip of skin beneath his ball sack.  
He undoubtedly deserves infinite upper arm punches for this and it'll probably take a while to fade, he went wherever he went, but Niall has this little part of Zayn before it does.


End file.
